


One Sacrifice Too Many

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angsty Dean, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3980023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Slightly expanded take on the scene between Dean and Sam in the bar in Season 10’s Finale episode. What did make Dean do what he did? What changed his mind despite the Mark clouding his judgment? *Emotions all around with limp/upset!Sam & angsty/edgy!Dean* Spoilers for 10x23 Brother’s Keeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Sacrifice Too Many

**Author's Note:**

> Tags: It’s a slight tag to 10x23 Brother’s Keeper as it takes place during the bar scene. Some actual scene included, some added but there will be spoilers so be aware before reading.
> 
> Spoilers: Yes.
> 
> Warnings: Mild language, spoilers, tissue warning or at least I cried.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> Author Note: I wasn’t sure if I’d write a tag yet or not given the ending which makes fixing things a little hard. Then while working on another WIP, the muse decided to go emotional and want to work on the scene in the bar between the boys. This is the result.

**One Sacrifice Too Many**

****

“Sammy, close your eyes.” Dean Winchester heard himself say the words but it was almost like someone else in control when he did. He could feel the hard wood of the handle of the scythe in his hand as Death gave it to him to take the life of his younger brother…the brother he’d sacrificed for all his life and who had sacrificed for him just as much.

When the hunter realized he’d reached the end of his rope or his useless dreams of containing how the Mark on his arm was changing him, Dean had done the only thing he thought to. He’d reached out to the one last shot he thought might work only to learn the sickening truth: he was screwed.

From the moment he’d taken the damn thing from Cain, Dean had thought, had been told Cain had gotten it from Lucifer in exchange for killing his brother rather than let Lucifer corrupt Able. Then he learned it was basically the first curse. Now…now he realized it was something else entirely and he was stuck with it or risk something even greater than the Apocalypse, the Leviathans, or power hungry angels could be unleashed.

Death gave him a lesson on an evil even older than Michael or Lucifer; one that predated nearly everything. An evil that God…before he ditched the throne for parts unknown, locked away and the only way to make sure that prison stayed locked was to keep the damn Mark on his arm.

Dean had wanted to die. The Mark wouldn’t let him die. Dean couldn’t have the Mark removed unless he gave it to someone else and therefore cursing another person to the hell he was living; an act he refused to do so that left him with very few options. Or it did until Death offered another alternative…one with an interesting twist.

Maybe it was the Mark reacting, maybe it was the exhausted side of Dean that was tired of seeing everything and everyone in their lives pay for their sins that made him agree to call his brother to the bar where he’d summoned the literal Horseman of Death. Dean honestly wasn’t sure.

The explanation had made sense to him when Death gave him the speech. Even if Death transported Dean away to someplace where he couldn’t hurt anyone else that still left one serious unsolved issue that could throw a monkey wrench into the plan: Sam Winchester.

Death had said and Dean agreed, or that one side did, that Sam wouldn’t stop until he found him or he had the Mark removed. If the Mark came off then The Darkness as Death called it would be released and then who knows what might happen so the only way to ensure that Sam stayed out of it, that Sam left it alone as Death explained it was that finally Sam had to die…and at his older brother’s hands.

“‘ _You’re living my life in reverse_ ,’” Cain’s voice was heard in Dean’s head as he looked down into the tired, sad, tear filled eyes of a young man he’d fought since he was four years old to protect.

The Father of Murder had gloated that Dean would kill his brother; an act that Dean had staunchly denied and now here he was in some glorified cantina in the middle of nowhere holding the goddamn weapon on Death with his beaten, bruised, and bloodied little brother on his knees in front of him.

Sam had tried to talk to him. He’d done his best to reason with Dean, to make him see that despite what Death might’ve said, what the Mark might be making Dean believe that he wasn’t evil; that they weren’t evil. But it wasn’t that clear to Dean right then.

All he saw or knew was that too many people had been killed because of them. The anger and guilt over Charlie’s most recent death was still too raw so when Death said as they waited for Sam to arrive that the only way to make sure it ended would be to end Sam it seemed logical to the hunter.

It still seemed logical when Dean’s head had snapped back from the first punch Sam threw; a punch that didn’t surprise him because Dean knew Sam wouldn’t go down without some kind of fight. He and their Dad hadn’t raised the boy to quit so a piece of Dean was proud of his little brother even as the Mark on his arm gave him more than his usual strength and he easily outmatched Sam.

There was no fury in the fight which surprised Dean a little. When he’d beat the crap out of Castiel there’d been fury, there’s been a cold rage inside him even if he had fought calmly but Dean figured that might have been over all the other things he’d never taken out of the Angel’s hide that he could’ve over the years.

This fight with Sam was more just to get his brother to the point where he might see that Dean was right or that Death’s big plan was the only thing that would work even if that other side of Dean, the side that was inwardly ranting at his own actions, knew their father and mother would not be proud of him right then.

The moment when Sam finally conceded there was an ache inside Dean. He got Death’s reasons why Sam had to die. Dean knew the lengths they’d gone to for one another in the past…many times screwing Death over in some way or another. So he knew Sam wouldn’t stop looking for him or trying to cure him of something that if cured could doom the world that they’d sacrificed…no, that _Sam_ had sacrificed so often for and he just couldn’t risk that.

So many people as Death had calmly told him had sacrificed for them. Either intentionally or unintentionally, their lives had cost others theirs and this was the only way to start to balance the scales.

“I…I won’t ever say…you’re evil. I won’t because you’re not. The Mark on your arm might be but you, my big brother, the brother I know is still inside you isn’t evil.” Sam had said once the fight was over and he’d slowly come to accept that this was the only choice even if the fear, the pain, the guilt were all plain in his hazel eyes as he’d looked up at Dean.

“I know you have to be stopped. I don’t know if this will do it or if this is just a way to get back at us for all the times we messed with the scales or whatever he said that one time,” he’d spit blood out before making himself look at his brother fully. “I know you, any you, would blame me for Charlie. I blame me for Charlie and I meant what I said the other day and I agree with what you said. It should’ve been me. This won’t bring her back. This won’t bring Kevin back, or Sarah, or Jess, or Mom or Dad but…” he moved his wet eyes past Dean to stare at Death before looking back. “I hope this helps to balances those scales and I hope when you find yourself again that these help to guide you back.”

Sam had reached into his pocket to remove two of the three pictures he had inside his jacket to hold out and then lay on the floor where Dean could see them. He chose the photo of Dean and their Mom and then the one of all of them outside their home in Lawrence while keeping the other one since he guessed it wouldn’t have meant anything to his brother now.

Sam had hoped with all he had that he could cure Dean of the Mark. He’d tried everything he knew and guessed he should’ve called Castiel when Dean gave him the speech on this Darkness stuff to tell him to just let the damn useless witch go but he’d been too busy holding onto his last hope that maybe his brother would snap to his senses and see that despite the logic used that he was still being played in some way.

Of course since two of the three things needed were basically impossible to get he hadn’t held much hope of Rowena casting the spell. Now he guessed it didn’t matter as he fought back the urge to try one last time to get Dean to listen to him as he saw Death pass him the scythe and knew he just had moments to get out what he felt he had to.

“In that warehouse, before you died…before my failing to save you started this whole damn mess you said you were proud of us,” Sam began with a forced calmness, hoping he wasn’t shaking as much as he thought he might be since no matter how many times he’d faced death it was totally different when it was at the hands of his older brother. “I won’t ask if you still are because accepting my death at your hands is one thing and I guess telling me that I should’ve died instead of Charlie tells me the rest of it but…I just want you to know…the you that I grew up with, who taught me what I know and who taught me never to give up…that I’m still proud of us. I’m proud of you.

“If and when you fight your way out of this or whatever…if you ever think of me…don’t hate me too much for the mistakes I made that caused our lives, your life to go this way,” he took a shaky breath while hearing Death speaking to Dean but Sam was too busy trying to burn what would be his last sight into his brain while his fingers dug into the pocket of his jeans for one more item. “I won’t ask you to not hate me since I know it’s too late for that and since I’m dying I’m nulling your no-chick flick rule so I can say…I love you…and this is still yours. Now do it because if I’m dying it’ll be at your hands, not his.”

“Do it, Dean.” Death spoke in his usual grim tone as he stood a little bit behind where Dean Winchester stood with his scythe gripped in his hands while staring at Sam and the items on the floor. “The only way to honor the memory of your family is for you to do this. Do it or I will.”

Dean had been staring at the photos. He’d caught a glimpse of another one but Sam hadn’t laid it out and he thought he might know why. Then as he was still working between his brother’s words to hearing Death in the back of his head along with other voices in his head his eyes saw the little bronze amulet hit the floor as it fell from Sam’s shaking fingers and he remembered another time he’d heard that item hit the ground: the day he’d dropped it in a motel trashcan.

The amulet had been given to him the Christmas Sam learned the truth about their lives, of what their father did. It had become a symbol of their bond as brothers as Dean never took it off except for the time he went to Hell and then when he’d lent it to Castiel to find God.

During the whole fight to stop the Apocalypse when both Heaven and Hell were playing them and Dean had finally gotten so emotionally tired that he listened to Heaven’s lies, when he’d lost faith in Sam, in them as brothers, he’d tossed the amulet and had walked away.

That, he knew, had been the start of a very rocky time for them but Dean had regretted his choice the moment he’d made it but knew he couldn’t take it back. He’d wondered a few times if maybe Sam had picked it up but when his brother had never mentioned it he’d finally accepted his mistakes and knew he had to let it go.

Now he stared at the amulet for a long moment while hearing Death going on about killing Sam himself if he didn’t as he lifted his eyes back to see Sam still looking at him.

“Please, Sammy, close your eyes.” Dean’s fingers tightened on the scythe as he met his brother’s gaze again before lifting the weapon; drawing it back to swing it while seeing Sam’s eyes finally close as his lips moved to silently whisper something Dean didn’t hear but he could still translate and knew what he had to do.

The scythe swung over Sam’s head as Dean spun on his heel to send the tip of the blade tight into Death’s chest and the hunter wasn’t sure who was more shocked: him or Death as it seemed the weapon of choice to reap souls could also kill Death…or a man wielding both the Mark and the weapon could because either way as Dean let it drop and he turned to meet his brother’s equally shocked gaze he was only thinking one thing…

“I think I killed Death.”

Sam was staring hard at the pile of dust on the floor. He’d been expecting instant pain, then instant death. He’d hated to close his eyes but in the end he couldn’t stand to watch his brother actually kill him so he’d closed them.

He’d felt the breeze of the blade go past him but when there was no pain he’d looked just in time to see Death crumble, literally, to the floor and he was still staring when he saw a hand being held out to him.

“You okay?” Dean asked a little shakily.

“I-I’ll live.” Sam took the hand cautiously since he still wasn’t sure what was happening or what Dean would do now. He was so shocked that he was then thrown for another loop when he was suddenly pulled into his brother’s arms. “Uhhh.”

“I am still proud of us.” Dean said in the low deep voice he got when fighting emotions he’d rather not admit to but right then he was at a point that he’d call do-over later. He’d just been about to kill his brother and he knew he might have if the big mouth asshole who’d been trying to end one of them for years hadn’t kept talking about their family and how he’d kill Sam if he didn’t.

Dean still didn’t know what to do about the Mark or what the hell would happen now but he was certain of one damn thing. Killing Sam, whatever the reason, would’ve been one sacrifice too many in his mind.

He held the hug for another moment, feeling Sam’s arms shaking as he returned it. When he broke it, he bent to snatch the pictures and the amulet from the floor to stay at them for a long moment. “Give me the other picture you’ve got in your pocket,” he said while slipping the amulet back around his neck to feel it settle back into position against his chest and wondering if it was just his imagination that a weight seemed to lift once it had.

“What…? I…I gave you…” Sam bit his lip, wiping at his face with a rag Dean gave him before feeling intense eyes watching him and the way Dean’s hand was steady when he held it out to him. “I…I didn’t think this one would mean as much as the one with Mom and Dad so…”

Dean took the photo of him and Sam that had been taken at Bobby’s to stare at it before slipping it and the other ones into his own pocket while trying to avoid looking at the mess on the floor. “I am still proud of us,” he repeated before catching Sam’s arm to catch his bruised face in his hands and lift it up to look at him. “I’m proud of you, Sammy. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you, little brother. I might get angry at things you do but I’ll never hate you and your death wouldn’t do anything to balance anyone’s scales. I’ve told you before Mom, Dad, Jess…Kevin…those deaths aren’t on you and despite what I said…neither is Charlie.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue only to close it when Dean’s fingers slipped to the back of his neck to squeeze it tightly like he used to when things were good and it was how he offered support. “I’ve said a lotta crap to you lately that I shouldn’t have. I won’t promise to not say crap again since I don’t know what to do now but…I don’t hate you and I…” he paused to consider the words he wanted to say but were still so damn hard when suddenly he turned from shoving things in his duffel at a sort of feeling before a bright white light seemed to crash through the ceiling and hit him.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, starting to go forward when he heard Dean shout to stay back. In horror, he watched as the light settled over Dean’s arm and then just as fast as it came it was gone and his brother was falling forward. “Dean! What…oh…” he looked down to see what Dean was staring at to see the mark was no longer on his brother’s arm and a sour feeling began to settle in the pit of his stomach as Sam realized what had just happened.

“I don’t think this is good,” Dean muttered as he stared at his arm, feeling the smooth skin where the Mark had just been. If was when he felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder that he suddenly realized all of the dark feelings, the rage, the fury that had been inside him were gone and Dean felt his knees shake. “Do I want to ask if you know what that was?” he knew what it was and knew by the shock on Sam’s face that his brother hadn’t really been expecting it so he decided to wait until they were home to find out who and how.

As Sam started to step out of the door of the bar ahead of him, he paused to glance back. “Dean? Not that I’m unhappy that you did, but why’d you change your mind?” he asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. “Why didn’t you do what he wanted?”

“Other than the fact that I didn’t like being bullied by Death at the end there?” Dean pulled his jacket on to reach out a careful hand to catch Sam by the back of his neck and bring him closer. “Cursed and damned, if I’d have killed you it wouldn’t have helped me. The guilt would’ve destroyed me faster than the mark would,” he watched Sam’s eyes and the way he worried his lip and knew he wasn’t going to be able to miss breaking his own rule. “You’re my brother, Sammy. You’ve had my back; I’ve had your back since we were kids. We’ve sacrificed for each other. It’s what we do no matter how much I wish it was different. I love you and doing what he wanted, what he was pushing for would’ve been too much so I didn’t.”

Dean watched some of the wariness leave and saw a glimpse of a smile before he gave into the urge to hug Sam again before giving him a shove out the door. He heard Sam asking if he was alright and he was. He felt fine. It was the rest of Death’s grim warnings that worried him but for the moment he and Sam were together and he knew that they’d face what came…like they always did because that’s what they did.

**The End**


End file.
